Ever Lasting Love
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: True love is always ever lasting.  6th in Pirate Turner's 2011 13 Days of Halloween fic series for my beloved Jack and our darling babies.  Het and Mild Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Ever Lasting Love"  
>Author: Pirate Turner<br>Dedicated To: This is the sixth story in my annual 13 days of Halloween series dededicated with endless love to my wonderful, beloved Jack and our darling children.  
>Rating: PG-13<br>Summary: True love is always ever lasting.  
>Warnings: Het, Mild Slash, Established Pairings<br>Word Count: 7,464  
>Date Written: 1-3 October, 2011<br>Disclaimer: Logan/Wolverine, Emma "White Queen" Frost, Sean "Banshee" Cassidy, Scott "Cyclops" Summers, Jean Grey-Summers, Everett "Synch" Thomas, Catspaw, Angelo "Skin" Espinosa, Jubilation "Jubilee" Lee, Joseph, Rogue, Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner, Generation X, the X-Men, Hellions, and all other recognizable characters mentioned within are ﾩ & TM Disney and Marvel comics, also not the author. Everything else is ﾩ & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter One**

He had been following his keen sense of smell, tracking her blood ever since she'd left the mansion hours earlier. Had he not been so distracted by the resident trick or treaters begging for treats, he would have responded faster to her need for help that was stronger this night than ever before but yet still remained unspoken, but he hadn't been there when she'd needed him. He'd heard the punch from clean across the mansion's grounds, but by the time he'd reached where the attack had happened, both parties had been gone. He still itched to wrap his hands around the neck of his supposed leader and squeeze the very life out of him for what he'd done and thought he would get away with, but he'd known that time was of the essence and that if he didn't reach her soon, it would be too late.

Logan cussed himself for everything he was worth and Scott a thousand times more as he rode through the city's lit streets. He had to swerve many times to keep from hitting a ghoul, goblin, or a costumed child as he rode Hellbent on a single mission this most important night. He shouldn't be having to pick up Scott and Sean's pieces. He should be at his favorite hangout, drinking and dancing the night away, but instead he was out here, racing through the city against a clock whose final chimes might have already struck in search of a woman who hated him and who, he thought with remorse, had every right to do so.

He was a killer himself, and he wasn't the only one amongst the X-Men who was in possession of a past that was every bit as brutal, heartless, and murderous as the woman whom he sought. Yet they'd all been given second chances. They'd all been forgiven for their sins, and yet they'd been unable to find it within themselves to even truly consider giving her a second chance. He snorted in self disgust. Hell, Rogue had taken everything one of his oldest friends held dear, making Carol suffer worse than just out right killing her ever could have, but he'd forgiven her. He'd fought against Emma, but she'd never hurt any one close to him like Rogue had hurt Carol, and still he'd been unable to find it within himself to truly give her a chance to prove that she wanted to be good until tonight.

And all along, deep inside, Logan had known that the woman was good. She only wanted to forge a better tomorrow for the young mutants of the world, which was what the X-Men were supposed to be all about. A part of her had died when her beloved students had been killed, and the rest of her had fallen apart when her new students had walked away from her. Logan'd heard that story many times from Jubilee, who still doubted she'd done the right thing and whom, every time she'd come to him, he'd told her she'd done right to follow her gut instincts. And yet she and the others had turned from Emma for doing the only thing she'd been able to do at the time to really protect them. A thing Logan himself would have done and never thought twice about.

It was their refusal to give the poor woman a second chance that had driven her straight into Scott's arms, and it was there that she'd found a new Hell. He'd known about it long before any of the other X-Men had. He'd known Scott pushed her, berated her, and used her. He'd recently started smelling blood on her without any fights having been at hand on some of those days. He'd known what was happening, and he'd ignored it until their anguished voices had caught his attention this afternoon. Even then, he'd tried to shut them out and ignore Scott screaming that Emma would never be half the woman that Jean was.

He was right, of course. Emma would never be Jean, but that didn't make his actions right. Indeed, that made his taking her into his bed as a source to relieve his frustrations all the worse. He dishonored Jean and hurt Emma every time he kissed her, and Logan knew what went on behind their closed doors. He had known for some time and ignored it all the while. He knew they didn't love each other, that Scott used Emma to try to convince himself he was over Jean and Emma did whatever Scott asked of her to keep her place amongst a team whose members hated her when the only man she'd ever loved had been Sean.

That realization had hit Logan this afternoon like a ton of bricks. He'd expected her to retaliate against Scott, but he'd never expected to hear her shout at him that it was fine that she was no Jean for he certainly had never been anywhere close to being Sean. Scott had reminded her that Sean had never loved her and his heart had always belonged to Moira instead, and Logan had growled then as he growled now, his claws extending at the sound of that lie.

Sean had loved Emma, but he'd not known what to do about it as he'd already been engaged to Moira, who was dying from the Legacy Virus, at the time when he'd fallen in love with Emma. Logan knew that to be the truth for Sean himself had gone to him for advice about it once while Logan had been up in Massachusetts visiting Jubilee. He'd told the Irish man wrong then, and he'd kicked himself ever since his death for doing so. He'd told him that, had he been in his boots, he would have made Moira happy while she still lived and then confessed the truth to the true woman he loved after her death. But he'd never guessed how guilty living that lie would make Sean feel or how heavily he'd turned to whiskey. He shook his head, a savage growl blowing out from between his curled lips and glistening fangs. He'd also never known how damn stupid the Irish man could be until he'd heard that he'd gone headfirst into the jet.

He continued to cuss and reflect upon all the wrongs he, Scott, and Sean had made to Emma until at last he found her. She was standing at a railing on a long bridge, gazing out over the dark water and the way the city lights and what little of the stars and moon could be seen reflected into its black, shimmering depths. She was bleeding harder, and the scent slapped him straight into the nose as he pulled in beside her. He killed his engine and walked up to stand beside her.

Neither of them spoke at first as he joined her at the railing. He linked his muscular arms over the top rail and followed her gaze. "Makes ya think 'bout how little room we take up in this world, huh?" he remarked softly. "Makes ya wonder if ya ever made a difference? I've talked to some o' yer kids over th' years, ya know, Frost. Sometimes I wonder how much difference I've made, but I know ya have. Jubes' told me how many times ya saved 'em."

She did not look at him but only continued to gaze out at the water as she spoke to him in a crisp voice whose urgency he was not supposed to be able to note though he did. "Save it, Logan. I neither need nor want your pity."

He snorted. "Hell, darlin', I ain't pityin' ya." He popped a claw and examined the way moonlight sparkled on his adamantanium. "Ya do that more'n enough yaself."

Her eyes flashed, and she turned to face him at last. He pretended not to notice the blood pouring from the cuts on her face. One of them had happened when Scott had hit her, but that one had since been joined by a couple of others. "How dare you!" Emma seethed, her blue eyes blazing.

"Oh, I dare all right," Logan answered carelessly with a shrug. "I dare 'cause I hate seein' th' woman my friend, Sean, cared so deeply for gettin' ta be so weak in her old age."

"Silence your tongue before I silence it for you!"

He shrugged again, turned his claw over, and looked at the other side of it. "Ya could try, darlin', but then ya'd never see Irish again, would ya?"

She paused, cocked her head slightly to one side, and gave him a long, steady, and thoroughly scrutinizing look. "Sean is dead. He has been for years."

"Don't mean ya can't see him."

"I am in no mood for games, Logan," Emma snapped. They both heard her heart pounding within her chest. "Spit out whatever your playing at. I am not Jubilee, one of your children, or one of your sweet, little, X-Men friends, and I have no patience for games. Tell me what you're getting at before I rip it from your mind myself!"

"Fine." He turned to look at her and carefully hid his grin. He knew he had her full attention, and though almost every other man he knew would be terrified to see the great Emma Frost seething at him as she currently was doing to him, Logan was secretly very pleased to see her depression turning back to fury. He could deal with anger a heck of a lot better and easier than he could a crying, suicidal woman who'd never admit to being either, let alone both.

He nodded. "Yeah, Irish is dead, but this is Halloween, th' one night th' dead come back to life. This is yer night to see him again, Frost, an' I can take ya to him if ya like. I gotta date there myself, though, an' th' clock's tickin', so ya'd better make yer decision fast."

"You lie. It's not possible to come back from the grave!" Emma exclaimed, shivering inside. It couldn't be possible! Sean was gone. She'd never see him again, and yet . . . Yet she could have sworn she'd felt his arms around her before several times, especially when she lay in her lonely bed and cried her blue eyes out, and there had been a couple of times when she could have sworn she'd heard him call her name so clearly that she'd berated herself for going crazy.

Logan shook his head. "Ya ain't crazy, Emma. Ghosts're all around us, but most people can't see or feel 'em. 'Course most people haven't dealt with as much death an' dyin' as we have. Fact is: Tonight ya can see him. I can take ya to him. Ya can talk to him, if ya don't do anythin' else." His eyes met hers. "An' ya bein' a telepath, ya know I'm not lyin'."

She gulped, feeling more nervous and afraid than she had since the fateful day Sean and her students, the lot of whom she'd come secretly to think of as the second family she'd never had, had walked away from her in hatred. Her next question came in a rushed, hushed breath that she had not intended to speak though it surged, screaming, through her heart and mind and out her lips. "Do you think he would even want to see me?" She quickly added, "I mean, that is, if it's even possible."

He wouldn't tell her Sean loved her. That was his call to make, his truth to reveal. "Only one way to find out." He sheathed his claws and held his upturned, gloved palm out to her. "Yer ride to him's here, Frost. Th' only question is: Are ya comin'?" Her heart pounded louder than any he'd heard in a very long time, and he knew she loved Sean every bit as much as Irish had loved her, as much, he reflected with remorse, as any one had ever loved another person. She put her hand in his, and he wasted no time in carrying her to her destiny and himself to his.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was dark and quiet when they entered the bar. Emma's blue eyes peered fearfully into the darkness. Though Logan had told her she could meet Sean here, and his thoughts told her that he truly believed what he said, Emma knew it could not be possible. This had to be a trap of some kind. Was he testing her, she wondered, to see if she was worthy of possessing a place on his cherished X-Men team without bedding his disgusting leader, or had he come to wreck retribution on her head for all the deaths she had caused? Whatever his mission, the savage mutant known far and wide as the Wolverine would soon find that she was more than a match for him and did perfectly well living up to her own namesake.

She had pictured a thousand scenarios awaiting her when they arrived at their destination, but none of them had even remotely included a bar. Out of all of the opposition Emma had expected meeting, none of her old enemies, team mates, or the X-Men's allies was what came out of the darkness to greet them. She stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the young man who came forward out of the shadows for the first time in years. Tears welled in her baby blue orbs as he came right up to her. She almost choked on his name, and it left her in a breathless whisper of awe, wonder, and disbelief. "Everett."

"Miss Frost," he greeted her warmly, and before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his ghostly arms around her and was hugging her as tightly as he could. His embrace warmed her through to the very depths of her icy cold heart, and yet still she could feel that his arms weren't quite solid as he held her. Her tight control of her emotions shattered, and tears slipped down her frozen cheeks.

"Please," he spoke to her, pulling back out of the hug just enough so that he could gaze up into her tear-filled eyes. "Please don't keep blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault. It was your sister's. You did everything you could to stop her, and then when she still killed me, you killed her even though you knew that the others were going to turn away from you when you did." He shook his head. "They shouldn't have, and I'm so sorry they did!"

He took her by the hand and led her further into the bar. "There are others here waiting to talk to you," he told her. "We've been waiting ever since we died, hoping you'd come by here or somewhere else where we can appear, so we could tell you that none of what happened to us was your fault." He squeezed her hand. "We don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself."

He was sitting her down at a corner table, still wrapped in shadows, before she realized they'd even come to a table. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. "Everett," she whispered.

"It's okay," he said again and hugged her once more. "Tell my parents and my little sister," he requested humbly, "that I miss and love them. Tell them it wasn't their fault, that going with you guys into Generation X saved me. It didn't kill me. And tell Monet, too, that I miss her, please."

Emma nodded briefly, still too shocked to move much. Everett's smile lit her eyes and made her own lips tremble. She was caught between breaking down and crying out her heart and smiling with relief and thankfulness that he did not blame her. "I will," she vowed.

"I know you will," he answered with a grateful smile. "You've always done everything you can to do what's best for me and the rest of your students. Thank you." He started to fade away, walking backwards, into the shadows.

"Everett," she called, "please don't go!" She winced inwardly at her words. She sounded like a fool, begging her dead student not to leave her.

He paused but continued to fade away even as he stood still before her startled, teary eyes. "I'm always near you," he told her, "but there are others who need to see you tonight." His smile was the last thing she saw before he vanished completely before her eyes.

Emma sat in shock, not daring to believe her eyes and ears and yet also unable not to believe what she had just seen and the young boy who had just hugged her so tightly three times. Logan watched her silently from where he sat across the small, black table from her. The next voice that spoke startled Emma so badly that she jumped. She looked toward it and then glared at the waitress who, despite everything else in this strange place, appeared to be a perfectly normal, human girl. A perfectly normal girl whose job she could have her fired from and whose life she could destroy with but a whim of her thoughts. Yet, despite how fiercely her ice blue eyes glared at her, Emma knew she wouldn't do anything to the girl. At least, not tonight.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the girl apologized with a tremulous smile. "It's very easy to get nervous here tonight, but I didn't mean to scare you. What can I get for you?"

When Emma just continued to stare at her, Logan cleared his gruff throat and spoke up. "The lady'll have champagne on rocks - "

"The Hell I will," Emma snapped, surprising everybody at the table, including herself. After what she'd just seen, champagne would be positively useless to her tonight. "Bring me your strongest whiskey."

Logan's brow rose. Emma glanced at him. "It's a disgusting habit," she said in truth, "but sometimes it's needed. I picked it up from Sean."

Logan smirked. "Figures," he said. He looked back to their frightened waitress. "Get her a bottle o' yer best whiskey," he directed, jerking his head toward Emma, "an' I'll take a six pack of brewskies. Don't bother bringin' 'em one at a time. Just bring me th' whole pack."

He extended a claw and carved a hole in the table. Emma noticed, her surprise growing still, that the carving he made was a new line in a set of small, singular notches. She didn't ask what their symbolance was, and he wouldn't have confessed to her that the lines marked every trip he'd made to this bar on Halloween night since he'd first encountered Lady Mariko's ghost here so many years ago if she had. "I'm gonna need 'em," Logan admitted, but their waitress had already scurried off.

Emma's surprise kept growing by leaps and bounds with every new thing that happened to her in this bar, and yet she knew, as icy chills crept down her spine, that the surprises were far from over. Her heartbeat quickened. She'd already met the dead tonight. Perhaps it was possible to see her secretly beloved Sean again tonight after all these years regardless of what she'd always believed.

Yet why would he want to see her? Emma puzzled. He had no reason to want to see her, unless it was to yell at her again for losing their students and killing her own sister. Her cheeks burned as his last words to her again shouted in her ears. He'd definitely told her quite clearly what he thought of her the last time she'd seen him. She lowered her head in shame, her tears again sparking. His heart had always belonged to Moira; he could never love her.

"Easy there, darlin'," Logan drawled, and Emma's blood ran as cold as her last name as he laid his hand on hers. "It's gonna be okay."

"Oh, I am quite certain that I will be fine, Logan," Emma spoke icily, slowly raising her eyes to his, "and you will survive well yourself as long as you remove your hand and never touch me again."

Logan withdrew his hand like he'd been shot. Glaring furiously at her, he started to speak, but then his words died in his throat as he saw movement behind her. He grinned instead. Emma's mouth was open to verbally wipe the smile off of his face when she heard a soft, gentle purr rumbling directly behind her. She shut her mouth abruptly even as furry arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Oh, don't be mad at Mister Logan, Miss Frost," the girl purred, and tears flooded from Emma's eyes before she could stop them. "He's only trying to help you and us."

Emma turned in Catspaw's embrace and found one of her youngest students burrowing into her arms before she could further react. She stroked her hair and fur as more tears fell from her face. "We've missed you so!" the girl cried, her long, bushy tail swishing. "And we've all wanted to tell you that it wasn't your fault what happened! It was Selene who killed us, not you! Please don't be so angry!"

A sob broke free from Emma's trembling lips before she could silence it. "I was never angry at you, dear girl," she told her. Her eyes rose to the spirits she saw moving just behind her young student. "At any of you."

"No, but you were angry with yourself."

Emma hesitated before finally admitting, "I was. I still am. I should have stopped the bitch. I should have killed her when I had the chance."

"But you couldn't have known what she was going to do! It wasn't your fault!" Catspaw lifted her head and gazed deeply up into her beloved headmistress' eyes. Emma was the closest thing to a real mother she'd ever known. She purred up at her. "Please don't be so angry at yourself! We're not."

"I . . . " Emma shook all over as she caressed Catspaw's hair. "I can not make that promise, little one," she told her.

"Then at least try." Her purr grew louder. "For us. To make us happy."

"Would it really please you if I did not blame myself for your deaths?" Emma pondered aloud, her eyes searching Catspaw's.

"Oh, yes!" the girl cried joyously. Her tail whipped happily. "It would very much!" Tiredness flashed over her face, and she yawned, her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth. She blushed then and licked a paw. "Maybe then," she said idly, "we could rest."

Emma sensed her exhaustion. Suddenly she was picking up the most extreme tiredness she had ever felt not only off of Catspaw but off of her other beloved Hellions as well. It was the kind of exhaustion that made one feel that they could sleep for a thousand years and still be incredibly tired even after all that slumber and rest. "I shall try, then," she vowed, stroking her fur. "For you."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Frost! Thank you!" Catspaw hugged her again, and then, she, too, started to vanish.

Emma ached to beg her not to go, but she knew she needed to rest and had always put her students' needs above her own. "Never forget," she heard Catspaw purring to her even after she and the others had vanished from her sight, "we'll always be real close to you. Any time you need us, just call. We're right here."

She did need them, Emma thought, crying quietly. She needed them all, and she'd called for them all many times before, but never before had they been able to answer. She heard a popping sound and turned to find Logan offering her a bottle of whiskey. She took it from his out-stretched hand, threw her head back, and gulped down several swallows before finally pausing in the welcomed relief she knew the intoxication it heralded would bring her. She gazed steadily across the table at Logan, her tears once more paused. She hated the fact that he'd seen her cry twice already, but she realized, too, that she would never have seen her beloved students again if not for him. "How often does this happen?"

"Every Halloween fer th' last hundred years far as I've been able to trace back, long as I've been comin' here too."

"Only Halloween?" Emma asked, feeling a twinge of disappointment. If this bar somehow served as a gateway for souls to reconnect with the living, she would have bought it and moved in. If the reconnection between the dead and living only happened on Halloween, however, she would begrudgingly settle for visiting every Halloween from here on. She noticed his fingers tracing the marks on the table. "You've been coming here this long?" she queried.

"Yup."

"How . . . How is it possible, Logan, for them to be here when we can not find them anywhere else?"

"I dunno that we can't find 'em somewhere else. Cemeteries are usually good fer contactin' ghosts." He took a slug of his beer, emptied the can, crumpled it up, and slapped it down on the table. His eyes met hers. "But does it really matter?"

She shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering around her slender, white-clad shoulders. "No," she answered. "I suppose not, but it is quite curious how this place has so many spirits traveling through it."

"Gang war, Miz Frost," a voice spoke from behind her, and Emma again whirled around. "Thirteen murders happened here on one night during that war."

"Angelo!" Emma cried.

He grinned. "Miz Frost. They're right, ya know, senorita. Ya shouldn't blame yaself."

She hesitated, caught between throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly as Everett and Catspaw had both done for her. She wanted desperately to touch him, to confirm that he was as real as they had been, but yet she knew Angelo had never been the hugging kind. Hugging and other such shows of love were probably a disgrace in his eyes.

"It's all right, Frostie," he told her. "It's all cool. We're family."

He hugged her so swiftly that she barely knew his arms were around her, and when he pulled away, she saw him reappear not before her but rather on the other side of the bar where a figure dressed in a yellow trench coat had just entered. "Jubilee," she spoke in surprise.

"Not a surprise," Logan said with a shake of his head. "Vamps usually have a pretty good connection with th' dead. They can find ghosts when th' rest o' us don't even know they're around."

Through the tears filling her glistening, blue eyes, Emma watched the young couple embrace and Angelo lead Jubilee out onto a dance floor she noticed for the first time. They joined at least a hundred couples dancing, and Emma could see through one member of each pair. Still it was Jubilee's bright yellow that her eyes continued to follow. "We let her down," she whispered.

"Big time." Logan nodded. "But she's still with us. We can make it up to her."

Mystified, Emma slowly shook her head. "How?" she asked. "How can we ever possibly make it up to her, Logan? She's dead, and we weren't there for her when she needed us the most."

"By bein' there for her now." Logan stood as he saw a new figure approach Emma out of the darkness.

A smooth and cultured voice spoke directly from behind Emma, first startling and then thrilling her beyond any pleasure she'd known in years. "By luvin' her, lass, as I should have ye."

Emma gasped, her heartbeat once more pounding at the sound of the gentle, sad, arousing, and Irish lilt that caressed her ears. Her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her bottle of whiskey. It thudded onto the table, and Logan stood it upright again. Emma trembled all over her body and throughout the very depths of her heart and soul, and still she dared not turn around. Logan tipped his cowboy hat to Sean. "Irish," he acknowledged and then walked away, leaving the two alone to face truths they should have faced years ago.

**To Be Concluded . . . **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Sean!" Emma cried, leaping from her chair and whirling around in such a rush that she knocked it over. It fell straight through Sean's ghostly form and hit the floor. She stared at the only man she'd ever loved, a thousand emotions spiraling through her heart and soul at once. She could scarcely believe that she was seeing Sean again after all this time and having wept while standing alone over his grave after all the others who had come to his funeral in honor had left and, unknown by all, she had crept back by herself to say a true good-bye. He had been dead, stolen from her and from them all by his own foolish heroics, and the only thing that made her able to accept the fact that she was actually gazing at the real man himself were the others she'd met again this night after burying their physical bodies.

Still she expected a trap of some sort or, at the very least, a mind game meant to prove to the world once and for all what a great idiot Emma Frost truly was. Tears sped down her white cheeks. They were both tears of happiness that he was here talking to her again, speaking of love for the first time, and tears of sorrow that the man she loved was dead and that, even if she was seeing him this most magical of all nights, she still could not be with him.

The biggest smile he had ever worn was upon Sean's handsome face as his heart boomed. He could hear her heart and feel the quickening of her breath though he no longer possessed any real flesh for her to breathe upon. He could feel her more closely, now as a ghost, than he'd ever dared to while he'd still lived. He knew she loved him, and now at last, he could tell her that he loved her too. Yet he had to make sure that she understood that this wasn't a dream or a game or a trick of any kind. She had to know it was really him and that the words he were aching to tell her were the greatest truths he'd ever known. "Em?" he softly called her name, his emerald eyes shining as he gazed into her baby blues with all the true love he'd only ever felt for her alone.

"S-Sean," her voice trembled despite her best efforts not to show her fear, "i-is it really you?"

"Aye, luv, 'tis me. 'Tis me ol', cogger fool meself."

She blinked. "Wh-Why?"

"Why am I fool?" he asked, stepping closer, closing the distance between them, and wrapping his ghostly hands gently around her lovely cheeks. A thousand delightful shivers swept through them both. "Because I ne'er told ye how I really felt about ye, an' still do, while I had th' chance tae love ye." His head hung in shame, but still his eyes stayed with hers. He'd dreamed of seeing those baby blues up close and personal again ever since before he'd turned his back on her and walked away from her as their students had. "I did a lot o' things while I was alive, Em, that I've come tae wish I had nae, even a lot that I regretted while I still lived. Th' greatest mistake o' all o' those was th' day I walked away from ye when ye needed me so badly. I should've stayed by yer side. I should've told ye th' truth."

She trembled in his hands, but not from the fact that he was a spirit or that his touch, had she paid any attention to the temperatures, was cold. She didn't feel the cold, and she didn't fear him in the least. Yet the emotions of hope that he would tell her what she'd dreamed of him saying to her ever since he and Xavier had rescued her all those years ago, the love that she'd always feel for him even if he didn't love her in return, and the dread that he truly didn't love her all spiraled more intensely within her than anything she'd ever felt before in all her life, and it was those strong emotions warring within her heart and soul that made her body tremble as he held her to him.

He caressed her cheeks, gently wiped her tears away, ran his hands over her body, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her tightly to him. Had he still had a heart, she could have felt it beating from how closely their bodies pressed together, but as it was, his sparkling, emerald eyes told her how much he loved her, as at long last, he finally told her the truth. "I walked away from ye tha' day, luv, nae because o' what ye'd done. I would've done th' same, had it been me family who'd killed our Everett an' I'd no other way to di 'em in. I walked away from ye, because I was angry, nae at ye but at meself."

He raised a hand and swept his fingers through her blonde hair. It had grown a few inches since the last time he'd seen her, and its strands were every bit as silky to his touch as he'd always imagined they would be had he ever dared to touch her during his lifetime. They both shivered in delight as he caressed her.

"Why . . . ?" she asked breathlessly. "Why were you angry at yourself, Sean? You could not have stopped me." She shook her head. "Perhaps I should regret killing Adrienne, but I don't. She killed Everett and would have done everything she could to kill the rest of our children if I had allowed her to live."

"Ye did th' right t'ing," he told her without doubt. He was the first to ever tell her that killing her sister had been the right thing, and Emma's smile grew though tears still sparkled in her eyes. A couple more of her diamond tears fell, splashing onto her cheeks, but he wiped them away again. "I'm sorry, luv. I should've told ye tha' tha' day an' stood beside ye! But I was a coward an', like th' fool I oft was, I was angry at meself fer lovin' ye!"

"You . . . You loved me?" she whispered, not yet daring to believe her ears.

"Aye, I loved ye, an' I still di, wit' all me heart, Em! Well," he grinned mischievously, his emerald eyes sparkling with his Irish mischief, "I guess I can nae say tha' any longer, bein' that I don't actually ha'e a heart any more. But I luv ye wit' all me bein', me darlin'! I had fer years even then, an' I always will!"

He frowned, tears shimmering in his own emerald orbs, and started to lower his eyes from hers for the first time since they'd been reunited. "I'm sorry I ne'er told ye before. I should ha'." He snorted in self-derision. "Heck, maybe if I had, I'd still be alive, an' we'd ha'e blood children o' our own now. But I was betrothed tae Moira when I realized that I luv ye, an' she was dyin'. I ne'er could find th' courage tae tell her th' truth while she was alive, an' then when she died, I felt I'd be wrongin' her memory tae turn from her an' tell ye that it was really ye I luved all tha' time."

He smirked. "Funny t'ing tha', in a way. I finally told her after I died. I told her I'd screwed up, that it wasn't her I loved but ye."

Emma blinked in surprise. Why, she wondered, had he finally told her the truth when it had no longer mattered for they could no more be together now than they had been then? And yet still her smile grew in size and warmth, and she tingled even more inside. The fact was, he had told her! Sean had finally told Moira that his heart had never belonged to Moira but rather to Emma herself, - and he did love her! He truly did! Her heart soared with happiness beyond any joy she'd ever felt before in her entire life!

"'Tis funny," Sean explained, "because she tol' me that she wished I would've told her that then. She did nae luv me, Em, nae more than I luv ye. She loved Charles. An' I love ye! I truly di, luv!" He squeezed her and swung her around. Emma lifted her booted feet and let him swing her about, her arms sliding up his chest and wrapping around his neck. Her long, slender fingers buried into his reddish blonde hair, and she lovingly caressed his soft curls.

Sean's eyes sparkled as he exclaimed, "I'm so sorry I never told ye, luv! If there was but one thin' I could go back an' change, 'twould be that day! I'd tell our students how wrong they were tae leave ye! I'd stand by yer side, an' I'd luv ye fer as long as ye'd let me!" She had not yet told him that she loved him, too, but he saw in her shining baby blues, heard in her joyously pounding heart, and felt in her caress that she really did love him too! He might be dead, he reflected with a twinge of sourness still aimed at himself, but he was still the luckiest man ever because she still loved him!

Her hands moved to his handsome face. She tilted his chin up and caressed his cheeks. "And I would let you," she breathed joyously, "forever! I do love you, Sean! I have almost ever since we started building that school together! You and Xavier saved my life and my world, but it was you, my love, who saved my heart and soul! I love you! I've tried so hard to stop over the years, but I can't! My heart belongs to you! It always has, and it always will! I love you, Sean Cassidy, and nothing will ever stop that love!" She kissed him passionately.

Their hearts soared, and as they flew through the sparkling cosmos on wings of love, Sean lifted them both into the magical atmosphere that filled the bar room. He carried them on wings of love, held her close, hugged her tightly, and returned her kiss with all the love he'd always felt and would always feel for her alone. He'd thought he'd known what love was twice before, first with Maeve and then later with Moira, but he'd never known true love until Emma Frost had swept into his life, heart, and soul! He loved her, and now at last, he'd finally told her so!

He danced with her in the air, far above all the others' heads. Some of the couples below knew them and stopped to point and talk about their union, but all of them were happy for them. All of them had known what it was like to lose the one they truly loved and felt the endless joy of being reunited with them, even if only for a brief time that had as of yet never lasted long enough.

"I love ye, Emma!" Sean whispered against Emma's lips as applause went up in the crowd below.

Emma ignored the applause. She didn't care who saw them or what any one thought any longer. All she cared about was that Sean loved her as much as she had always loved him and they were together at long last! "I love you too!" she exclaimed joyously, only tears of endless happiness sparkling in her blue eyes now. "I know you can't stay," she said, refusing to allow herself to think too deeply on the fact that they would soon be parted again.

"Nae," he shook his head sadly, "I can nae, but I have been playin' Hades for a chance tae be th' next one that comes back from th' dead." He laughed gaily at the shocked expression on his lady love's face and stroked her hair and cheeks again. "But even if I stay dead ferever, Em, we'll always have Halloween, I'll always be wit' ye even if ye can nae always hear or see me, an' when yer time comes, luv, I'll be right here waitin' fer ye wit' open arms an' a far bigger heart." He winked. "As it were. I'll be here waitin' fer ye, luv, an' when ye come tae me, we'll spend th' rest o' eternity taegether, luvin' each other ferever more!"

"Nothing could make me happier!" she breathed truthfully, her eyes shining merrily. She hugged him more tightly.

"Nor I," he agreed, "but din't hurry, luv." He tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, and she shivered ecstatically as his fingers brushed over her lobe. "Ye've still a lot o' good work tae di fer th' children, an' who knows?" He grinned devilishly. "Maybe I'll be back before ye knae it."

"I pray so, my love, but regardless," she queried, gazing lovingly into his emerald orbs, "we still have tonight, correct?"

He nodded. "An' e'ery Halloween."

Her grin grew even larger, though she'd not thought it possible. "Halloween just became my favorite holiday!"

He laughed. "'Tis 'bout time! I always told ye it's a magical night!" He captured her lips with his again, his tongue plunging into her mouth and trysting against hers with the wild passion she evoked in him that he'd never dared to show her while still he'd lived. Her tongue met his, and they dueled as sweetly as they danced, holding to each other all night long and loving one another even after, forever more, and infinitely beyond the beyond!

* * *

><p>Logan sat alone at the bar, watching the lovers dancing in the reflection of the long mirror before him. Sean and Emma were happy at last, and he was thrilled for them. Angelo and Jubilee and Joseph and Rogue were also out on the dance floor, making up for lost time as he knew they'd continue to do every year from here on out until the living joined the dead and they were truly reunited to spend eternity together forever as they belonged. He sighed, downed another beer, crumpled it, and threw it against the wall. He promptly reached for another.<p>

Something suddenly touched his leg, right above the cuff of his boot, and Logan grinned. He didn't have to look down to know that it was the pointed end of a fuzzy, blue tail caressing him. "Took yer time tonight, Elf."

"Sorry," Kurt apologized, his tail whipping once before slowly crawling further up Logan's leg. "I vanted to give you zime to do vhat you had planned. You did a great zing tonight, Logan."

Logan nodded. "I know." His eyes locked with the reflection of the yellow orbs watching him in the dirty, cobweb-shrouded mirror. "Ya taught me ta care." He took one last swallow of the beer he'd just popped open and then pushed the unfinished can away.

"And you do it beautifully." Kurt's tail swished joyously, and he grinned at Logan in the mirror, his silver fangs glittering in the darkness. He reached over and placed a hand over his. Logan turned his hand palm up, and their fingers entwined as Kurt's fur softly stroked his hardened flesh. "Care to dance, mein fruend?" Kurt queried quietly, and Logan's grin stretched from ear to ear.

"I was beginnin' ta think ya wan't gonna ask me."

"Never happen," Kurt assured, standing. He took Logan in his arms, and they danced right there at the bar. They had no need to join the others on the dance floor for they made their own music wherever they were. They held each other tight, and the couples continued to dance on throughout the night.

Logan knew that dawn would come too soon. It always did, but he knew, too, that he, as well as Emma, Jubilee, and Rogue, would be back to this bar again next year and every year thereafter for as long as it took for death to claim them. Once they joined their loves in the afterlife, they'd truly be happy then, and they'd dance forever together on the wings of true love that never soared higher than when they were with their soul mates where they belonged. They would stay with them then, not just on Halloween but forever after! He grinned and kissed Kurt, knowing they all couldn't wait to spend eternity together happily ever after as they belonged forever more!

**The End**


End file.
